


The Butterflies You Give Me Are Literally Making Me Nauseous

by Destinyllama



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Author is trans, Cis Peter Lukas, Elias Bouchard Being a Bastard, M/M, Oral Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Squirting, Trans Elias Bouchard, Trans Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginismus, Vibrators, dubcon, noncon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:26:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26115658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Destinyllama/pseuds/Destinyllama
Summary: “I see… Does it usually hurt?” He asks, patting his hands on his thighs.“Most of the time…” Jon’s eyes dart to the side in embarrassment. “Yes.”“You haven’t had much penetrative sex then, I assume.” Elias tilts his head.Back when he pretended to be straight, when he pretended to be a woman, he tried several times, but it was awful. He assumed it was a string of bad men. If he only found the right man, it would be easier. Then he thought that he was a lesbian and that his difficulties were because he wasn't attracted to men. Sleeping with Georgie didn't change anything, and the pain followed even after he transitioned.Even now, it’s making things… difficult.-----Jon has vaginismus. Elias manipulates him into having penetrative sex during a threesome anyway.
Relationships: Elias Bouchard | Jonah Magnus/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Elias Bouchard/Peter Lukas, Elias Bouchard/Peter Lukas/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Peter Lukas/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 7
Kudos: 82
Collections: Jonelias Week 2020





	The Butterflies You Give Me Are Literally Making Me Nauseous

**Author's Note:**

> For Day 2 of Jonelias Week 2020 prompt manipulation.
> 
> A huge thanks to Edoro for betaing for me! You gave me excellent suggestions!
> 
> Terms used for transmasc genitalia: cunt and cock.
> 
> The concept of Jon having vaginismus and Elias pushing Jon's boundaries regardless came up in one of the TMA servers I'm in, and I was enthralled immediately. I used to have vaginismus, and the idea of incorporating it into a kinky fic and... make it sexy, I suppose? really appealed to me. It felt like a good way to reclaim it for myself.

It's  _ good _ . The sex is  _ good _ . It's usually good when Elias is involved.

Even when it's quick and dirty, when it's Jon sticking his fingers down the front of Elias's pants at work, it's good. And when Elias gets on his knees and presses his mouth against Jon's cunt it's really good. It’s unfair how talented Elias is at giving head. He has the uncanny ability to know exactly what pleases Jon, and Jon’s never had a partner so intimately aware of what makes him tick. But bottoming is another matter entirely for Jon.

“Th-That really isn’t—” Jon squirms away from Elias’s hand, sheets wrinkling as he scoots backward. “Oh, no, that’s—ah— _ ahh _ —” It’s difficult to speak as Elias pushes a finger inside him.

Jon lies sprawled on Elias’s bed, a wet spot beneath him because Elias spent the past half hour precisely taking Jon apart with his tongue. It’s been quite enjoyable… until the intrusion, that is. That’s always the point at which sexual encounters become unenjoyable for Jon.

“No, no, just relax,” Elias shushes him, leaning down between Jon’s legs and curling the finger inside him. “Just relax, Jon. You’re clenching—”

“That’s because it  _ hurts _ .” Jon grabs his wrist with a suddenness that startles Elias.

Elias’s eyes shine golden as they flick to the side, highlighted by the single lamp on in the dark bedroom. He sighs, like Jon's pain is an inconvenience, and withdraws his finger, wiping it on the sheets and adding to the mess. 

“I see… Does it usually hurt?” He asks, patting his hands on his thighs.   
“Most of the time…” Jon’s eyes dart to the side in embarrassment. “Yes.”

“You haven’t had much penetrative sex then, I assume.” Elias tilts his head.

Back when he pretended to be straight, when he pretended to be a woman, he tried several times, but it was awful. He assumed it was a string of bad men. If he only found the right man, it would be easier. Then he thought that he was a lesbian and that his difficulties were because he wasn't attracted to men. Sleeping with Georgie didn't change anything, and the pain followed even after he transitioned.

Even now, it’s making things… difficult.

"No, I, uh…" Jon doesn't meet Elias's eyes, even as Elias kneels there attentively. "...It's never been pleasant for me."

Elias tilts his head. "Vaginismus?"

"Maybe. Something about the sensation makes my muscles clench." Jon sinks his head farther back into the pillows. "Perhaps it's the expectation of pain?"

"Mm. Bad experiences can do that." Elias nods and pats his hands on his own thighs. " _ Well _ . That shouldn't be much of a problem. I prefer bottoming anyway. We'll have you use a set of dilators so you're looser when we attempt this in the future—"

Jon sputters, "Oh, that won't—"

"No?" Elias quirks an eyebrow. "It really is the best way to solve this."

"No, it's not that. It's just," Jon's words trail off as he tries to articulate his unease. "...I don't want to trouble you."

"It's no trouble, Jon." Elias smirks. "After all, I'd  _ like _ to finger you."

He slips back between Jon's legs and proceeds to make Jon feel like his soul is being sucked out through his cock.

* * *

One night, over a post-dinner drink, Elias comments that his husband, Peter Lukas, was coming ashore soon. As Jon understood it, their marriage was rocky, but amiable with enough frequency for Jon to be mildly acquainted with Peter. The man didn’t talk much during the two dinners Jon shared with him and Elias. Jon nods in acknowledgement, mentioning how he'd like to see Peter again. Elias then requests a threesome, coyly swirling the glass of red wine in his hand, and Jon isn't opposed. He’d had group sex before with Georgie, and it would give him a chance to get to know Peter. Besides, sex with Elias was rarely substandard, so Jon agreed.

When the date arrives, they have a brief dinner at Elias’s house; as usual, there isn’t much conversation from Peter, which suits Jon just fine. They end up comfortable and drinking wine in Elias’s living room, Elias in Jon’s lap with one arm hanging over Jon’s shoulder, as he likes to do. Jon is warm and content with the weight of his lover leaning against him. The sofa is soft behind him, his head is heavy with wine, and the quiet murmur of Elias and Peter hangs in the air, lulling him into a doze.

Eventually, Elias places his glass on the coffee table and says, “Well, let’s not delay the inevitable—shall we go up to bed?”

Giddiness bubbles up in Jon’s stomach as he follows the two up the stairs and into the master bedroom. He’s certain the night will be enjoyable. Elias’s bedroom is decorated in the same Victorian style as the rest of the house. It’s a bit darker, perhaps, a bit more moody as that suits its use, with that particular shade of arsenic green wallpaper Elias seems to love so much. The furniture is antique and dark wood. The bed is huge and canopied; the kind of massive curtained thing Jon had previously thought only existed in country estates before meeting Elias.

Jon sits on the bed to undress as Elias pulls off a few of the decorative pillows and lays them on the floor. Peter stands before him, pulling his jumper over his head and depositing it in a crumpled pile. Underneath jumpers and suit jackets Peter looks solid and muscular, but now that he's in only a plain white t-shirt, his weight is visible. He's got a bit of a belly and chest, which Jon traces with his eyes, and his shoulders are broad and strong. He looks like he could snap Jon in half if he wanted to, and Jon bites his lip at the thought. Peter notices and smirks back, taking his dear sweet time pulling his shirt off.

Underneath his chest and belly are both hairy, salt-and-peppered because of his age. His legs are hairy, too, as Jon discovers when Peter undoes his pants. Peter is butch, masculine in a way that Jon and Elias simply are not, and Jon is eager to experience that masculinity through Peter’s strong hands and thick thighs. 

When Peter pulls off his briefs, it’s suddenly  _ very _ clear why Elias likes him. He’s hung like a horse. Jon actually stops in the middle of unbuttoning his shirt to stare at it. Peter smiles back at Jon, and Jon gulps.

“Like what you see, lad?” Peter wraps a fist around his cock and gives it a few tugs.

“Oh, I think he does…” Elias’s eyes meet Jon’s as he pulls lube out of his nightstand. “Isn’t he wonderful? If you think it looks nice, just wait until it’s inside you,” Elias chuckles, and Jon’s breath leaves his body. “And his stamina? The man feels like a freight train...”

“Wait, wait,  _ wait _ — _ Elias _ —”

“I thought it would be an excellent way to acquaint you two.” Elias shrugs off his shirt as he steps out of his briefs; he’s blase about this, to Jon’s horror. “Nothing is more… intimate than fucking, after all.”

“Can’t I… Can’t I just suck his cock instead?” Jon glances nervously between Elias and Peter, hoping for some sliver of mercy.   
If it’s there, Elias doesn’t show it.

“But Peter doesn’t visit London very often, Dear. And he’s spent so many months at sea…”

“Actually, I—” Peter interjects, but is very swiftly cut off by Elias.

“Don’t you want to give him something worth the trip?”

There’s a pause as Jon internally panics.

“You can refuse, of course.” Elias tilts his head. “If you’re not feeling up for sex, you could always watch while Peter fucks me instead. I just thought, with all our  _ practice _ …” Elias walks over to sit next to Jon on the bed, placing his hand at the small of Jon’s back.

“No, no, I want to,” Jon shakes his head. Internally, he’s conflicted, wanting to both please Elias and avoid potential conflict. Denying Elias comes with its own unpleasantness.

“Good.” Elias leans over, whispering in that sultry tone that makes Jon’s stomach flutter, “You know, I’m so  _ proud _ of your progress, Jon…  _ My _ Jon…”

Those words always make Jon melt, and he leans happily into Elias’s kiss, softening in his hands. Fingertips flutter over his waist, tracing down along his hip bone, reverent as though touching an icon. When Elias pulls away to smirk, Jon finds himself chasing his lips. It’s a good distraction from the Lukas in the room.

Still it’s difficult to ignore Peter when he sits down on the other side of Elias. Jon looks away and pulls his shirt and binder over his head as they kiss. When Elias lies down to suck at Peter’s balls, Jon’s eyes widen; he can’t help but watch. Elias, it seems, is just as skilled at sucking dick as he is at eating cunt. He spits into his hand and then strokes Peter while rolling one of his balls in his mouth with his tongue. His mouth follows the underside of Peter's cock as he licks a long stripe up the shaft. He delicately places the head in his mouth, like he's sucking on a cherry, and looks up at Peter with a sultry confidence that Jon envies. Peter looks just as mesmerized by Elias as Jon does. Then Elias does something with his tongue that makes Peter groan and huffs out a chuckle through his nose. When his lips close around the shaft and he fits the full length down his throat… Jon shivers. It’s not long before Peter grows hard, and Jon becomes aroused. There’s a large wet spot in his briefs when he finally pulls them off.

“Jon?” Elias sits up and wipes a string of drool from his chin. “Why don’t you kneel on the bed so Peter can eat you out.”

Jon nods, scrambling into place on the other side of the bed. He hopes it isn’t too obvious how eager he is as he gets on his hands and knees. “Is this good?”

“That’s great,” Peter chuckles, positioning himself behind Jon.

Peter’s hands are huge and rough, and when they cup Jon’s hips, Jon shivers. Peter positions Jon so easily, pushing his upper half down against the bed, pulling him closer until Peter can get his tongue on Jon’s asshole. Peter eats his ass like he hasn’t eaten in days. His big thick fingers encircle Jon’s cock, and he grinds his palm into Jon’s cunt. Jon can feel the slide of it against his rapidly dampening heat. Peter removes his hand and gets to work on his cunt, and Jon surprises himself with the volume of his moan. His eyelids flutter, and he hears a familiar chuckle to his right. He hopes Elias is enjoying this; as he purposefully grinds back against Peter’s mouth, he turns his head to lock eyes with Elias. His mentor’s hands are twitching where they lay neatly; Jon can tell he wants to touch himself. That makes Jon smile.

Something blunt pokes and forces itself into Jon’s cunt without warning, and Jon grunts at the burn. Elias  _ smiles _ .

“G-God…” Jon stutters through clenched teeth. The intrusion hurts, but Jon steels himself.

“Oh, ho ho! Haven’t broken this one in yet?” Peter laughs. Jon already hates that laugh.

“It’s a work in progress.” Elias leans close to move a few strands of hair from Jon’s sweaty forehead. “But that’s what you’re here for, isn’t it, Darling? To loosen him up for me?”

After that first incident with Elias’s fingers, Elias prescribed Jon a regimen of dilators. The sessions had been mostly ineffective. Mostly they were painful; that hadn’t prevented Elias from being insistent on them. Jon, wanting to please Elias, continued to agree to them, despite their unpleasantness.

They didn't aid in making this moment more bearable. Jon’s cunt clenches immediately, his walls gripping around Peter’s fingers with a disturbing level of force. The sensation is sharp and inflamed, as though someone were pushing a brand into him. Peter thrusts the finger in and out, pushing against him and flicking his cock with his thumb. Jon has to take a deep breath and focus to avoid backing out of this entirely.

Tears well up in his eyes as Peter adds a second finger, and he bites his lip to avoid whining. Peter’s fingers curls sharply, his knuckle digging into Jon’s back wall, and it becomes a little more tolerable for Jon because Peter is hitting his g-spot perfectly. Peter's tongue is back against his asshole, lapping, sucking at that wheel of muscle until Jon has to relax and moan.

“...You’re so nice and tight for me, lad. Hot and  _ tight _ and  _ wet _ .” Peter’s breath puffs against his cunt as he moves to lap at Jon’s folds.

His fingers continue moving, in and out, in and out, clenching every so often against that pleasurable spot inside Jon that makes him feel full and overwhelmed and lost. For all the red hot pain inside him, the cruel scraping of his insides, it’s still enjoyable. He can survive this, he can return from this ordeal. He focuses on the push of Peter’s fingers against that singular spot, the squelch of his fluids against Peter’s hand, the rubbing of Peter’s fingers on his cock, and Peter's tongue lapping in broad strokes against his ass. His arousal overtakes him, and pressure builds inside him, a river pushing against a dam. There’s the overwhelming sensation of losing control, of embarrassment, humiliation, pleasure. His pelvic muscles clench involuntarily; it feels as though he’s being milked, that Peter is forcefully wringing every drop of pleasure from his body.

“I-I-I’m going to p-piss myself—”

Elias cups his face, cooing as he brushes hair out of Jon’s eyes, “No, Jon, shhh, just let it happen—it’ll feel wonderful—”

Jon cums as a burst of warm pleasure fills his belly and a spurt of liquid drips onto the sheets. The pressure inside of him is intense; he feels like he’s cutting off Peter’s fingers with his cunt. There’s another spurt as his legs shake and his whole body tremors in repeating strong bursts of ecstasy. He feels release and rides down a wave of dopamine and oxytocin.

“Ohhh, that’s nice… He squirted a bit,” Peter says, pulling his fingers out and shaking the slick off of them.

“Did he? Oh, of course he did. You’re such a  _ good boy _ for me, aren’t you, Jon?” Elias leans in and gives Jon a kiss that reignites a fire in Jon’s groin.

A trail of spit leads between their mouths when Elias pulls away. Jon wants to follow it, panting, wishing for more. The warm afterglow of his orgasm only makes him wish for more intimacy; he wants skin-to-skin contact with Elias. Instead, he feels Peter’s hands on his waist, and he leans into the touch. Peter flips Jon over onto his back, and Jon’s heart immediately jumps. Peter slides his cock over Jon’s, and, although it feels nice, although he tilts his hips up to grind his prick against Peter’s, Jon feels like there’s a sword pointing at his abdomen.

Elias lies down close to Jon, brushing the hair out of Jon's face. He kisses and sucks at Jon's neck before catching his mouth in a kiss. This is what Jon wants, and their tongues slide against each other until Jon is moaning and bucking his hips up against Peter's cock. Elias pulls away to sit up and open the bottle of lube; he drizzles it salaciously over Peter's dick and gives it a few tugs to coat it. A lube covered finger dips into him briefly before Elias lays back down again.

“Are you ready, Jon?” Elias whispers in his ear, “Are you ready for his cock..? It will feel  _ wonderful _ …"

Jon can’t help but moan. He focuses on Elias's breath against his neck and the sight of Peter lining up between his legs. Peter pushes the tip in, then a bit more, and Jon wails. He can feel his walls contracting around Peter's cock, trying to push out the unwanted intrusion, trying to get rid of it.

"Ough, that's… He's awfully tight, Elias." Peter draws a breath through his teeth like he's in pain. Maybe he is in pain, and Elias is torturing them both.

"It's nice, isn't it?" Elias smirks and leans over to dribble more lube over Jon's cunt. He grinds his fingers over Jon's cock in a broad stroke that makes Jon twitch. "Like a virgin."

"Or a vice grip," Peter grumbles.

"E-Elias," Jon whines, high and nasally.

"Shh, shh, darling… Quiet…" Elias coos, rubbing Jon's shoulder, "This will be perfect… You'll see…"

Peter gives a few shallow thrusts to get Jon acquainted with the feeling, but it doesn't do much besides make Jon uncomfortable. He slowly pushes forward until his cock is nearly entirely sheathed within Jon; it doesn't quite fit, even after Jon's canal has been widened by orgasm. Elias certainly wasn't joking about Peter's size, and, if Jon didn’t have this  _ affliction _ , he’s certain having his cunt filled so completely like this would be pleasant indeed. In the present, however, it just serves to stretch him beyond his limits.

Peter pulls Jon’s legs up on his shoulders and begins a moderate pace. The movement makes Jon mewl pathetically, and Elias coos in response, whispering praise into Jon’s hair. He brushes his hand through Jon’s chest hair, occasionally brushing a finger over an erect nipple; the kindness is almost worse than Peter’s brutality. Each powerful thrust taps at Jon’s cervix; every movement there is a jolt to his core, as nothing has ever touched him there before. A few errant tears stream from Jon’s eyes when his cervix is pummeled particularly hard; it sends a strike through Jon’s whole body and makes him cry out from the overwhelming sensation.

It’s like Peter is jabbing at a raw wound, forcing something dirty and violating where it simply does not belong. Were Peter to tear something, were this pain more than just his muscles painfully contracting, would he stop? Or would he continue on, cleave through the tendons and muscle of Jon’s pelvis, leave a gaping fistula where Jon’s vulva once was? Would Elias even care if Jon was pummeled into a smattering of flesh on his silken sheets?

Right now, the answer is ringing in Jon’s ears with a volume that drowns everything else out. The buzz of Elias’s vibrator covers Jon’s quiet sobs. Elias is getting off on Jon's pain, masturbating to his violation. Was Elias's cunt dripping, his cock red and swollen, from the moment that Peter started violating Jon? It isn’t Peter who’s defiling Jon, really; it’s Elias. Peter is Elias’s tool to destroy Jon with, as much a sex toy as his vibrator.

“ _ Jon _ ,” Elias moans, and Jon hates it. “ _ Oh, Jon! _ ” A gasp, probably melodramatic for his benefit rather than Jon’s. “Ohh…  _ Peter _ .” That one was more sultry. 

Peter’s tongue lolls out in response, though he doesn’t say anything. He merely repositions himself, bending forward so that Jon’s knees are closer to his chest, so that he can reach deeper, can slam the entirety of his cock into Jon, reach deep inside him and assault his cunt until Jon can only moan and cry and nothing else.

The bed jostles, more than it already is with Peter’s thrusting. Elias must be cumming. 

“Oh! Ohhh,  _ Jon! Ahh! Archivist~! _ ”

There’s a strained little string of gasps, shaking and shivering, and Jon’s cunt clenches, thinking about Elias’s wet heat, despite everything. There’s a momentary pause and the sounds of breathless panting and the vibrator buzzing in the air. Jon can imagine Elias’s cock twitching, that bright red nub sticking out erect from wet, tumescent folds. Even now, even as Elias’s  _ dog _ rams into him with increasing fervor, Jon wants to wrap his lips around that head and suck until Elias shakes and  _ screams _ .

Elias jabs his knee into Jon’s ribs as he spreads his legs, displaying himself for Peter. There’s the slide of something thick and slippery—Elias must be fucking himself with his vibe now, and there’s a marked increase in the pace of Peter’s thrusts. There’s an incessant squelching as it moves in and out. Even if Jon doesn’t have a clear view of it, he can see it in his mind: Elias’s legs up and to the side, pussy exposed and drenched with cum, cock erect and throbbing where it peeks out under black curls. Elias must look  _ obscene _ , his lips and hole spread for the room, for  _ Peter _ , to see. It’s exactly the kind of visual that makes a warm ball of pleasure well within Jon.   
“Oh, Peter, Peter… Seeing you fuck him is just…”   
There’s nothing but heated panting in return, and Jon squeezes his eyes shut. More tears fall down his cheeks; he wishes he were sitting where Peter is. He wishes he could watch Elias fuck himself for him; he wishes it was his name on Elias’s lips and not Peter’s. And he hates that he’s so aroused, and he hates that Peter is here, and he hates how Peter’s pelvis hits his cock with each thrust.

“God, I want you  _ in me, Peter, _ ” Elias begins, moaning shamelessly, “Your prick must be so slick with his cum now; you could slide it into me with one thrust—I know you could,  _ Peter _ . Your thick, massive cock—”

“...Shut up, shut up, shut up,” Jon croaks out so quietly that no one can hear him. 

He wishes Elias would just let the encounter run its course. He wants Peter to cum in him and get it over with. He’s just a sex toy, something for Elias to pull back and forth on Peter’s cock to get him off. And Peter’s pleasure is ultimately just an instrument of Elias’s own pleasure; they’re only fucking because  _ Elias _ wants it, because Elias likes group sex, because Elias gets off on watching his lovers fuck each other. None of this is about Peter or Jon.

“ _ Ohh _ , I could ride you for hours, Peter—" Elias is gasping again, incessantly, "I want you to  _ fuck _ me, I want you to  _ cum _ in me—I want you to fill me up until I’m  _ dripping with it _ and then I can spread myself and you can watch it flow from my hole—yours, Peter! Yours, yours,  _ yours _ !”

Jon hears Elias pull out his vibe and stuff a few fingers into himself—Jon’s watched several such displays, displays Elias was eager to perform, so he can picture it clearly. He sees Elias sitting on the bed or the kitchen countertop with his legs splayed open. He’s got three fingers inside himself and his thumb on his cock. He’s had Jon repeat it on him, guiding Jon to curl his fingers and press into Elias’s g-spot.  _ Yes, yes, there you go, that’s perfect _ , Jon remembers hearing as he pushed against Elias’s bladder. Jon’s hand was shining with squirt by the end of it, and he had to mop up an unsightly puddle on the kitchen floor.

Jon feels Elias bend and twist so that he can kiss Peter and keep his fingers inside himself. He hears them make out above him, with such little regard for him. They noisily slide their tongues together, and there's the squelch of Elias's fingers thrusting in and out of himself. Peter is panting wildly as he pulls away from Elias's mouth, nearly hyperventilating.

“Ahh! Ahh!!  _ Peter! _ ” Elias suddenly cries out.

Elias’s knee jabs sharply into Jon’s side as his breathing becomes ragged and staccato. A sharp gasp cleaves the air, and his thrusting gets wetter and more frantic. And at once, it cuts off, and the only sounds in the air are Peter’s continual thrusting, Elias’s exhausted pants, and the slide of his fingers through liquid. Jon guesses that Elias squirted from the sound of his hand rubbing one last time over his soaked cunt. As he gasps from overstimulation, Elias's knee twitches against Jon's ribs. The scent of sex is heavy in the air; there's his and Elias's and Peter's sweat and their squirt and fluids. It's pungent and musty, and it makes Jon's head swim. He lays there limply, simply waiting for this all to end.

Shortly after Elias finishes, Peter cums inside Jon, and Jon lets out a long, large breath and a little chuckle. It’s  _ over _ . Thank god, it’s over. He runs his hands over his sweat-drenched forehead and through his hair and smiles. Elias coos to the side of him, rubbing his stomach and telling him what a good boy he is, and Jon feels like he’s about to throw up. Peter’s cock departs, and Jon feels like it’s taken some of him with it. There’s a deep ache inside him, a sharp pain near his cervix that drudges up memories of menstrual cramps. He’s afraid that the wetness on his thighs is blood instead of cum, but Elias doesn’t seem to be concerned so it must not be.

“There,  _ good boy _ .” Elias has shuffled up alongside Peter and is patting him on the back, like the man isn’t red-faced and huffing and grimacing in pain. His cock looks inflamed where it sits between Jon’s legs. “That wasn’t so bad, was it, Peter?”

Elias pulls Peter into a kiss that the man easily reciprocates. Jon can’t help but wonder if Peter is trying to forget how awful the experience was. Maybe he wants to distract Elias from his obvious discomfort. Jon doesn’t care. He screws his eyes shut and curls up on his side as his accomplices muss the sheets next to him. He hears the wet sounds of Peter’s mouth—Peter’s probably fellating Elias, because even all the torment Jon endured didn’t satisfy Elias. Elias is never satisfied.

Jon is hollow and used and cold. He’s listening to his lover moan someone else’s name without the slightest concern for Jon’s feelings. He’s detached from his own body, a miasma floating over the shape in the bed that’s supposed to be him. He knows something is deeply wrong here, but he can’t muster the strength to voice it. So he lies there, listening to his boyfriend moan as if he isn’t in the room.


End file.
